12 comments on “Complicity”

Thanks, D. We didn’t bid in the end – it went past the amount we were going to put in, with 40 secs to go, so we had our nice butternut squash soup and a glass of rosé wine instead, and we’re quite cheerful.

Sorry, I didn’t realise underbidder isn’t a well-known word. Martina is right, except that it sounds as if the underbidder doesn’t actually want the item and is just pushing the price up!

The underbidder is the person who bids but doesn’t succeed in buying the item, because he is outbid by the buyer.

Of course, what an auctioneer really likes is two or more people who are desperate to buy the rare and lovely item he has for sale, because neither of them wants to go home empty-handed and they just keep on bidding.

I should have been able to figure it out, because I do know what “under” means, and I know what “bidder” means, but I think I just wasn’t sure what the “under” was referring to – in this case, it means the final buyer (who prior to the auction end, is also a bidder) I thought it might refer to the price, or the reserve.

And yes, I like to do it just to push the price up. I have strategies for working out people’s high bids on ebay, and then pushing them up to it. It’s a bit dog-in-the-manger, I know, but it’s fun.

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

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Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.

Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?